Curved Swords (Story)
There is a group of dragons in the Scorpion Den that believe hybrids are useless. Like a sword that was forged wrong, and now it's curved instead. A mistake. So they have a mission: rid the Scorpion Den of all hybrids. How do they do that? By killing them, of course. They call themselves the Hybridslayers. There is another selection of dragons that believe that the Hybridslayers are wrong. They know that a curved sword can be just as deadly as a straight one. They have a mission: free the hybrids. They call themselves the Hybridsavers. Then you have the dragons who are afraid. Afraid to fight back. Afraid of the Hybridslayers. They think that any weapon is deadly, and they don't want to come anywhere near a sword. They have a mission too: escape. They are called the Hybrids. |-|One= Sandstorm flew through the clear skies. It was night. The perfect time to kill a hybrid. And that was exactly what she was going to do. She watched as a small brown head poked out of a alleyway. A hybrid. She grinned. She scanned the shape. Half MudWing, big-shouldered, relied on flight. Simple. This would be fun. Sandstorm had no interest in lurking in the shadows. She leaped out, slashed off the hybrids snout, raked her claws through his wings, and stabbed her tail into his heart. The hybrid's eyes widened as it fell forward. He whispered, "I forgive you," and slumped down, dead. For a moment, Sandstorm froze. No one had ever said that to her. No one. And yet this dragon she had killed had... she shook it off. They're all horrible... Sandstorm left the body hanging in the alleyway. She knew someone would find it. That was the point. She then disappeared in the shadows of night, as though she had never been there. But she was watching. She watched as an idiot curious dragon with pale scales and splotches of black and silver messily dotted through his scales walked into the alleyway, saw the hybrid, and gasped. Ah. Another one. Small. Scrawny. Not good at fighting. She keeps her ears pricked up. Depends on her sense of hearing. '' ''This is too easy. ︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵ Pyrite was not a violent dragon. It didn't matter what the other members thought, she really tried not ''to get into fights. But sometimes, dragons just ''asked ''for it. And so Pyrite had to refer to violence. It was never that dangerous. Just a rake at the ear or bite on the back. Sometimes her sister, Quicksand, joked that she didn't understand why Pyrite had been given a Peacekeeper title, in which Pyrite would retort by saying that at least she had a title and wasn't still in training like her. That had involved another fight. But honestly, Pyrite couldn't help it. Whenever she tried to stuff down her anger and not react, it flared in her stomach like an angry coal, pulsing and burning. And so she let it out. She decided to use her rage against her enemies, and defeat them. And it had worked. Well, half of it, anyway. She unleashed her rage alright, but ''defeating ''the enemies? That was the part she was still working on. It didn't help that her enemies ruled the Scorpion Den. Or had dragons that had trained in combat for years. And their creepy name didn't help much either. ''Hybridslayers. That was the word whispered, quietly, carefully across the Scorpion Den. By day, it traveled through the air, winding across the many stalls and shops, making the air heavier, making every little thing more menacing. And by night? Well, why speak their name when you can see the effects of their work instead? Most dragons couldn't actually see the Hybridslayers. The could only see shadows swooping down. They could only hear the hybrids' cries. They could only watch as the first rays of the sun hit the town and the dead bodies were carried far away. And it infuriated Pyrite. That feeling of helplessness. And that was why she has joined the other side. The Hybridsavers. If Hybridslayers were the dark, then Hybridsavers were the light. They saved as many hybrids as possible. They could only do this with neat abd clear orders and systems, and so they were made. You had the lowest rank that wasn't even considered a rank. The trainees. They were Hybridsavers in training, and didn't do much until they proved their worth. Next was the Saver rank. This was when you actually started going on missions. Between the Saver rank and the top rank, Hybridrescuer, there were a bunch of smaller mini-ranks. Pyrite was only a few levels down from being a Hybridrescuer, and that was a Peacekeeper. There was only one Peacekeeper at a time, and they were given a privilege. A privilege that some might consider terrifyingly dangerous. ''The Peacekeeper had to face the top dragon from the Hybridslayers. And lucky for Pyrite (note the sarcasm) that was a highly-trained dragon about Pyrite's age named Sandstorm. Hooray. Not. That meant Pyrite had to follow the vile dragon as she traveled from alley to alley, scouting for hybrids. Her first kill of the night was big-shouldered half MudWing. Sandstorm had killed him so fast. Pyrite wouldn't have been able to do anything for him anyway. But then when another hybrid walked into the alleyway, and gasped ''very loudly, ''Pyrite had gotten ready to attack the moment Sandstorm moved. She didn't have to wait long. A sleek dragon jumped and approached soundlessly. She looked like a shadow, with her dark scales and smooth movements. Her dark eyes flashed dangerously, but before she could do anything, Pyrite leapt forward and pushed her to the ground. The hybrid whirled around and stifled a scream when she saw the grappling dragons. But Pyrite wasn't paying attention to the hybrid. No, all her attention was focused on the slimy, slithering, ''horribly attractive ''Hybridslayer pinned underneath her talons. "My, my, my," chuckled Sandstorm, smirking up at Pyrite. "I knew you wanted to see me, but I didn't know that you wanted to see me ''this ''badly." "Haven't enough innocent dragons died?" she growled. "Hasn't enough blood been spilt because of you?" Sandstorm's face twisted in disgust. "Hybrids are not dragons. They're horrible ''filth ''that contaminate pure SandWing blood, and deserve to be wiped out, along with their traitor parents." "Do you really believe that?" Pyrite said, onyx black eyes piercing straight into Sandstorm's soul. "Do you really believe that they all deserve to be wiped out?" "Yes," said Sandstorm simply. "Now you have to let me go so I can kill this dirt." She nodded in the direction of the petrified hybrid. And that was Sandstorm's fatal mistake. The Hybridsaver bristled, anger brewing in her eyes. "I am Pyrite, Defender of Hybrids, Slayer of Evil, and Dragon of Peace. I don't ''have ''to do anything." '''Author's Note: Sorry about the bad grammar, but it's 3 AM right now and I am typing on my phone SO there will obviously be mistakes. So, all of Pyrite's part has been written at 3 AM...' PITY ME. |-|Two= Will get to it later.